


A Shadow of a Tree

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-24
Updated: 2007-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's your choice. But there aren't many Satedans left.  Shouldn't you take a little more care to preserve your society?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shadow of a Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Aesc](http://aesc.livejournal.com), for the [Back to Basics: Atlantis](http://community.livejournal.com/atlantisbasics/) challenge.
> 
> Thanks to [Auburnnothenna](http://auburnnothenna.livejournal.com), [Rosalita](http://iamrosalita.livejournal.com), and [Sageness](http://sageness.livejournal.com) for beta. Special thanks to Rosalita for saying the right thing at the right time.

"People are dying," Ronon said, leaning intently over the conference table. "I need to find out why. They're my people. I have to go."

"Elizabeth," John said, " _we_ need to go. The Satedans have suffered enough. If we can help -- and I think we can -- we should. Ronon's made important contributions here. It's what's right."

Elizabeth said raised her eyebrows at that. "Rodney?"

"Yes, yes, Radek and I have studied what little information we've been able to gather, and we've talked to Biro. Teyla actually, well . . ." He looked at her.

"My cousin Atenya recently returned from a visit to Ealda and said she saw much illness there. Major Lorne's team accompanied Doctor Biro to see Atenya."

Biro said, "I'm a pathologist, but it looks to me as though Atenya is describing from a form of radiation poisoning. That's incredibly rare in the Pegasus Galaxy, as we all know."

"So, the Genii?" Elizabeth asked.

Rodney and Teyla shook their heads. Teyla said, "I do not believe so. The Genii kept very much to themselves until recently. Atenya spent several weeks on Ealda, in the settlement nearest the gate. She saw nothing to indicate the Genii had been there."

"But we need to check it out," John said earnestly.

"We need to help my people," Ronon said.

"We need to help the Ealdans," Teyla added mildly.

"Well, I need to get back to work," Rodney said, "so will somebody make up her mind?"

"Yes, Rodney, I'm aware of the importance of your work," Elizabeth said. "But John, I'm uncomfortable sending your team to Ealda when we don't know what the problem is. Doctor Biro, you say it _sounds_ like radiation poisoning, but could it be something else? Some kind of disease or plague?"

Biro rubbed her forehead. "There's no residual radiation that we could measure on Atenya, so yes, that's possible. Anything's possible."

Elizabeth folded her hands together and stared at the table. At last, she asked, "What kind of precautions can our people take so they won't fall ill, too?"

"Full-out radiation suits," Rodney said, not looking up from his laptop, "with dosimeters pinned to them."

"Doctor Biro?"

She shrugged. "Level B hazmat suits would be adequate, I think. The problem with any hazmat suit is the SCBA, the self-contained breathing apparatus. They don't give you a lot of time to work."

Rodney waved his hand irritably. "Zelenka, Simpson, and I rigged something up ages ago that'll take care of that. The real problem is finding a hazmat suit that'll fit Dex."

Ronon eyed him.

"I'm sure we can do something," Rodney said quickly. "Even for your hair, your, uh, dreads."

Ronon just stared at him.

"John?" Elizabeth asked.

"We need to go. This is important to Ronon _and_ Teyla, and that means it's important to us."

Elizabeth smiled at Teyla. "Yes. Yes, it is. Very well, you have a go, but only in Level B suits with Rodney's modified SCBA."

They rose, their chairs scraping, and Rodney hurried out, already talking on his radio to Radek. Ronon stood for a moment, arms crossed, and then said, "Thank you."

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you, Ronon, for all you've done for us. I hope there's something we can do to help."

John slapped Ronon's shoulder. "There will be. McKay'll figure something out."

~ ~ ~

The Level B suits did not, Ronon discovered, come in his size, but he hadn't had to growl that he was going with or without it; McKay really did figure something out and with the help of an Athosian tailor, they combined two suits into one. "There," Rodney said, sweating and red when Ronon was finally inside the suit.

"Not exactly _haute couture_ ," John said, arms crossed.

"Of course you'd know about _couture_ ," Rodney said, wiping his face. "But it'll do." He looked up at Ronon. "It'll keep you safe, buddy."

Ronon smacked Rodney on the back hard enough to knock him forward, enjoying the subsequent sputtering. He grinned at John and took off at a jog, getting used to the weight and fit of the suit by running through the corridors of Atlantis. Not that much different from some of the get-ups he'd had to use in the military, except the Satedan army had never made anything in this cheerful yellow.

The next day, the team headed to Ealda, jumper loaded with supplies. "Why'd they settle so far from the gate?" Rodney asked, looking up from whatever gadget he carried.

Ronon shrugged. "They don't mix much. Lived too long alone, I guess. Plus it's safer away from the gate." Sateda had been a close-knit society. Once, he'd known everyone in the complex where he and Melena had lived, and before that, where he and his family had lived. He knew that the Satedans here would try to re-create that feeling of security. He had.

John flew them toward the city, the top of which poked above the browning trees. "Blend of something and Ancient," Rodney murmured, nodding to himself. "Sateda looked more, ah," he glanced at Teyla, "more industrial than most."

"More advanced," Teyla said serenely. "More like Taranis than Athos."

"Yeah," Rodney said, and cleared his throat. "Advanced. So I guess it's natural they'd move into a city?"

Ronon nodded. "They'd rebuild," he said. He tried to imagine another city like the one he'd been forced to leave, here in the middle of this forest. What he saw through the windshield was more like Atlantis.

John flew lower and slower. "We're cloaked," he said over his shoulder to Ronon. "No use worrying them."

Ronon stood and leaned between John and Rodney, one hand on the back of Rodney's chair, peering down. The streets were overgrown, vines climbing the buildings, saplings pushing up through the streets. The crowns of the trees were so thick in places that Ronon couldn't see what lay below, but multi-storied buildings, their windows broken, their roofs sagging under the weight of leaves and past rains, still rose above, high enough that John brought the jumper level with one so they could peer into the interior.

"No one here," Ronon growled, and John flew on. As they went deeper into the city, he saw evidence of attempts to clear the litter and repair the damage. At what looked like the city center, they finally saw people. Little cafes like Ronon remembered from his school days, a display of fruit and vegetables with people arguing over value and freshness, small shops under different colored awnings: blue for business, red for play, green for planting, orange for medical, yellow for sex. Almost like home, he thought, and felt a knife-sharp pang for Melena's orange trimmed smock and the glowing orange overhang of her hospital's emergency entrance.

"Ronon?" John said, and Ronon took a deep breath.

"Yeah. Let's go in."

Rodney wouldn't let John set down the jumper too close. "It's hot," he said to Ronon, oddly gentle. "I can't figure out what kind of radiation yet, but we don't want to spend too much time here. You need to get your people to move."

Ronon raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Satedans didn't take to being pushed from their homes. He wasn't sure he could convince them no matter what Rodney's instruments said.

Before landing, they changed into the Level Bs in the puddlejumper. Ronon nearly refused, but John gave him a look and he knew he'd have to fight all three of them, so he pulled it on, Teyla helping him. McKay chattered on and on about ionizing radiation, EMPs, and particle radiation, oblivious to the others' discomfort. Ronon put his hands on Rodney's shoulders, startling him into silence. He stared into Rodney's eyes, so oddly pale and wide, and then nodded. Rodney swallowed, and nodded back.

"Thanks, buddy," John whispered to him as they exited the jumper. Ronon shrugged.

Rodney said, "I'm not taking this off --" he plucked at the stiff yellow material of the suit -- "until we're back in orbit." He pulled his helmet on. "And neither should you," he continued, his voice muted and echoing through the helmet.

"Radio," John reminded him. Rodney looked at him blankly. "Radio!" John shouted, and smacked the push-to-talk button on Rodney's chest.

Ronon fitted his helmet on as well, though he hated doing it. How would these people recognize him as a Satedan? But he didn't want to argue with John. He chose his battles with John carefully, and this wasn't one he wanted to get into. "So what exactly is this supposed to protect us from?"

"Bad shit," Rodney said. Ronon gave him a look, and he added, "Radiation, chemicals, air-borne virus, anything we don't want to get too close to. Here, the radiation. It's odd, too. Ionizing, which is bad, but at a low level."

"Hot spots?" John asked.

"We'll find out," Rodney said, sounding grim.

John swung the jumper around, taking them back to a less populated area. He ducked beneath the tree cover and found a side street that looked untouched by the city's newest residents.

Ronon led the way out of the jumper and toward the city. He felt like a freak in the uncomfortable suit that rustled with each step; each breath sounded like a dying man's rattle, and he hated that, too. Who would greet him as kith or kin, looking like this?

"Oh, this is bad," Rodney said, slowing. Ronon turned awkwardly in the suit to watch Rodney stare at the laptop balanced in one hand. "I still can't identify this radiation. Definitely ionizing; I can tell that. And," he looked up at Ronon, his eyes wide behind the reflecting mask in his helmet, "and it's been here a long time."

"Fuck," John muttered. "Cause?"

"Ahh," Rodney hesitated. "A bomb? From a long time ago? I hate guessing. Don't make me guess."

Ronon turned away from them and continued on, ducking beneath broken overhangs and climbing over piles of debris. Someone had started the difficult job of clearing the street, but only in the middle. "Hey, hey," he heard Rodney huff, but he kept on, moving as fast as he could.

He came to a corner and stopped, holding his breath, trying to hear over the regulator. He cautiously peered around the corner and saw for the first time in this place people moving. A man sweeping up shattered glass. Kids tossing a ball back and forth. A cluster of people discussing something with much gesturing. The others came up behind him and paused.

"Do you wish me to go first?" Teyla asked.

Ronon didn't answer. He paused for a few seconds more, and then began walking toward the people. Four people in brilliant yellow; he slowed and raised his hands shoulder high. "Um," Rodney said, but from the corner of his eye, Ronon saw Rodney raise his hands, too.

The kids saw them first and stopped to point; some laughed, some looked belligerent. Then an adult pushed them aside and they ran away. The man with the broom held it like a weapon across his chest and faced them.

Ronon walked even slower and raised his hands higher. His teammates followed closely. "I am Ronon Dex," he called out. "I am from Sateda. My mother was Tomma Dex Watt."

A woman said, "I knew Tomma. Who was her sister?"

"She didn't have a sister, but she had a younger brother, Lem Watt Eri. Their mother was Nomi Tai Watt."

"This is true," the woman said, nodding her head. She clasped her hands together and bowed in the Satedan way, a small measure.

A man near her, not the one with the broom, said, "Why are you masked?"

"This is a dangerous place," Ronon said. "There's a radiation that will hurt you."

"We're fine," the man with broom said, stepping toward them. "Who are you to tell us about safety?"

"He isn't," Rodney said.

Ronon put a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "This is my friend, a scientist. He's the one to tell you."

The man spit. "We fought the Wraith. We know about danger, and we know about safety."

"Not like this," Rodney started, but Ronon pressed down on his shoulder and he subsided.

"Not like this," Ronon repeated. "The air is bad. It will hurt you. I came to warn you that you must leave."

"I don't think so," one of the men said, and another woman said, "This is absurd. We've been here years; where have you been? Why should we listen to someone who ran away?"

"I didn't," Ronon started, but the others were talking over him, and then Rodney started talking. John sighed and shifted impatiently. "Shut up!" Ronon bellowed. "If you won't listen, tell me where we can find the council of chieftains? We'll tell them."

After much arguing, the man with the broom agreed to lead them to the council.

~ ~ ~

"Don't say it's okay when it's not," Ronon said.

One of the three chieftains glared at him, but the other two looked thoughtful. "Explain further," Holoth said.

Ronon looked at Rodney. "It's a form a radiation, of energy traveling at high speeds, and in the long run it can do a lot of damage to the human body."

"Doctor McKay knows," Ronon said, staring into Holoth's eyes. She was the eldest here, her face shiny and red and covered in delicate wrinkles. "I trust him."

"And we know you've been getting sick," Rodney added. "It's stupid -- I mean, you're not stupid, just ignor- just un, uh, you just didn't know, but you really need to find another, safer place to live." He looked at Sheppard.

"No Wraith have bothered us here," Teros said. He was the youngest chieftain Ronon had ever heard of, and he looked angrily at him and his team. "You say we'll be safer somewhere else, but somewhere else the Wraith will come."

Ronon took a deep breath, and then hesitated. Teros had a good point. No one was really safe. And there were other enclaves of Satedans in the galaxy. Who was he to tell these people what they should do? That's why they had chieftains.

"Look," John said, looking relaxed and a little annoyed. "It's your choice. But there aren't many Satedans left. Shouldn't you take a little more care to preserve your society?"

Ronon saw Rodney roll his eyes, but Teyla chimed in. "You have much to preserve," she said in her careful way. "And I agree that finding a place of safety is worth much. But not if the very soil makes you ill."

Teros looked sulky, Holoth interested, and the third member, an older man named Watt, skeptical. Ronon and Watt had determined they were distantly related, but that hadn't changed his opinion of the news Ronon and his team brought.

Ronon ripped off his helmet, silencing the SCBA. He wiped the sweat from his face and took a deep breath. Rodney squawked his dismay, and again even louder when John took off his helmet. They slapped at each other until Teyla took off her helmet, and then Rodney, red from anger and probably fear, took off his. The better to yell at his teammates, Ronon thought, and gently put his hand across Rodney's mouth before he could get started.

He pulled Rodney closer, and felt John and Teyla move in as well. "We're not from here," Ronon said. Rodney relaxed under his hand. "My friends are not Satedans, but they've welcomed me into their home. They've given me everything they could, but they couldn't give me Sateda. And neither can you."

Holoth raised an eyebrow and sat up. Teros crossed his arms. Watt looked on impassively. Ronon pointed at him. "On Sateda, we would be kin. We'd owe each other a measure of respect, what my mother called a look -- because kin know each other." _Give your cousin a look,_ she would say to Ronon, and he'd meet his cousin's eyes and nod, a hesitant bow of acknowledgment. "It's what all Satedans owe each other, especially now.

"I don't insist you leave. But I won't stay here. And I ask all who would hear me to leave, even on this planet, but away from here."

"But we're safe here," Watt said. "No Wraith approach this place."

"That's because it's _poisonous_ ," Rodney burst out, and Ronon tightened his hand.

"My friend is right."

"You just want what we found," Holoth said.

Ronon nodded. "It's true. The scientists where I live scavenge stuff like this. But they won't live here. They won't breathe the air or drink the water. Neither should you."

Ronon could see from the look in the chieftains' eyes that they weren't persuaded. He rubbed one eye, pushed his hair back, and said to his team, "Let's go. Their decision."

"Ronon, wait," Holoth said, but he jammed the helmet back on, shoving his dreads into it, and tugged McKay away.

"Why?" he asked, his eyes wide and his mouth unhappy. "You wanted to come here, you wanted to risk this, and you just walk away?"

"Ronon?" Teyla asked, coming up beside them, John behind her.

They walked out the low building the chieftains held counsel in, stared out by the Satedans who'd gathered here. Out in the streets, Ronon paused to look around. Their faces were so familiar, the voice the sound of his lost family, the storefronts reminding him of nearly forgotten pleasures. "It's home," he said at last. "Why should they leave?"

He looked at Rodney. "You gonna breathe this air?" Rodney hastily fit his helmet back on and followed him through the broken streets. Ronon could feel John and Teyla looking at each other, but heard them follow soon.

Back in Atlantis, he left the pile of sweaty hazmat suit in the locker-room and left without showering, nearly sprinting away. The inhabitants of Atlantis were used to his running through the corridors now and stepped out of his way without missing a word in their conversations to others or over their radios. He ran all the way through the city to the perimeter, and then began circumventing it. He ran until the sun had sunk beneath the surrounding ocean and the sky was milky with stars. He ran until he was exhausted and couldn't see Sateda anymore.

~ ~ ~

"Jesus, where the hell have you been?" Rodney asked when Ronon limped toward him, sitting on the floor outside Ronon's quarters. "I've been waiting forever. Why'd you leave your radio behind? What if there'd been an emergency? What is wrong with you?"

"Shut up, McKay. You could've used the life signs thing," Ronon said wearily, but Rodney never let that get in his way.

He clambered up, from the floor and followed Ronon into his room. "Spartan. I should have guessed," he said looking around. "Listen, oh, wow, wait, are you going to -- let me turn around." He stared at the wall next to the door while Ronon stripped. "Listen, I'm wasting valuable time here when I should be working or resting, so just tell me what's going on. Why did you give up? Are we going to go back?"

"No," he said shortly.

Rodney sighed and crossed his arms. "Look, Ronon. I can't say I understand all this, because I don't. People, you know, and Pegasus, and just everything not physics or engineering. But." He turned around. Ronon had undressed but was facing away from Rodney, so he kept his eyes on the back of Ronon's head. "I, you're, we're good, right? And I want to help."

Ronon twisted back and, to Rodney's relief, he was smiling. "We're good," he growled, and Rodney felt his back muscles relax. "I came back. That's all you need to know."

"Wait, what? What does that mean?" Ronon disappeared into the little bathroom and Rodney heard the water gush out. He hesitated, but he wasn't sure what to do. Finally he sat on the edge of Ronon's bed and watched steam billow. It was pretty, and Ronon didn't sing in the shower.

When Ronon finally emerged, one towel wrapped around his hips, using another to dry his dreads, he stopped abruptly to stare at Rodney, who stood up. "I, uh, just wanted you to know that. That I. I'm glad you came back."

He fled, knowing his face was brick red, grateful not to hear Ronon's laughter follow him. Ronon had looked stunned, something Rodney hadn't often seen. So maybe it was okay.

He found Sheppard drinking coffee and playing his Pocket Poker game in the mess. "Hey," he said when Rodney flopped into the chair next to him.

Rodney sighed, and stole Sheppard's mug. "Too much sugar," he grumbled, after swallowing most of it down and sliding the mug away. Sheppard only rolled his eyes. "Listen. Those people -- the Satedans on Hellhole --"

"Ealda."

"Whatever. They're going to get sicker. They had kids there, and I saw a pregnant woman." He studied Sheppard's face. "What will happen?"

Sheppard shrugged, and reclaimed his coffee. "It's their life, Rodney. We gave them the information; what they do with it is up to them."

"But they're _stupid_ ," he said earnestly, learning over the table. "Sheppard, these people in this galaxy, they don't _get_ nuclear energy."

"That's what interests me," Sheppard said. Rodney could tell he was changing the subject, but he actually did sound interested, so Rodney listened. "You said you couldn't identify the energy. And we know the Ancients used zero point energy."

"So why was a quasi-Ancient city radiating whatever the hell that was, that's a good question, Sheppard, good question." Rodney stared into space just over Sheppard's right shoulder. "What the hell was that stuff?"

"Not Ancient, I bet," Sheppard said. He sipped his coffee, made a face, and pushed it away.

"Somebody else lived there after the Ancients but before the Satedans, and built whatever's poisoning them. You're right." Rodney stood up suddenly.

"Where you going?"

"To see Elizabeth, get the anthropologists on this. Maybe they've bumped into stories or whatever they collect and have heard something."

"It's post-Ancient; it won't be in the database," Sheppard warned.

Rodney glared at him. "Yes, thank you, Colonel, for clarifying the painfully obvious. The anthropologists, at least some of them, are collecting stories, studying patterns of exchange, looking at family structures -- they might have run into stories about whoever lived in that place."

Sheppard leaned back in his chair. "You're turning to the social sciences for help?"

"Oh, shut up," Rodney said, irritated and amused. Only Sheppard could really keep up with him, he thought, as he headed toward Elizabeth's office.

"Yes, Rodney, it would be nice if we could investigate this phenomenon, but I'm surprised you think so. Wouldn't it be a waste of our limited resources? Or do you see a way to benefit Atlantis?" Elizabeth looked mildly at Rodney over the top of her laptop. He was sure she was playing solitaire on it.

"It might," he said, and hesitated.

"It might. That's it exactly. Learning the nature of that energy _might_ benefit the expedition, _might_ turn up an energy source that could be used as a weapon, but it _definitely_ would be a risk to our people."

He grimaced, and nodded. She was right. "Still," he said, but she held up her hand in that incredibly annoying gesture of hers.

"No, Rodney. You have more than enough work on your plate."

"But the anthropologists --" he started.

"I'll grant you that. I'll ask them to investigate who lived on that planet after the Ancients deserted the city there. I agree that's a fascinating topic." Her gaze focused on him. "Maybe I should go, talk with the people near the gate. Learn what they know about the original inhabitants of the city, and why they built there. But you have your own work. Quite important, I believe?"

"Yes, yes," he muttered, already turning and heading to his lab. She was right but he didn't have to be graceful about acknowledging it.

~ ~ ~

Elizabeth did talk to the cultural anthropologists about the Satedans living in the mysterious city on Ealda. Dr. Corrigan had heard about them; he was friends of a sort with Ronon and had taken it upon himself to learn more about the Satedan diaspora.

"They've been through a lot," Andy told Elizabeth over tea in her office. "I gather they were one of the most technologically advanced civilizations in this galaxy, even further along than the Taranans. And the Satedans did it without recycling Ancient technology."

Elizabeth thought of Ronon when he'd first arrived in the city; how silent he'd been, how sullen, and how much he'd frightened her. But she knew that John had been right to offer him a place in the city and on his team. Ronon was smart, and hard working, and loyal to a fault. As much as Elizabeth mourned the loss of young Aiden Ford, she could only be relieved that Ronon was with them.

But Andy was still talking. "When they fled Sateda, they scattered widely, sometimes only two or three arriving in the same place. It's taken years for the small settlements to gather. The one on Ealda is the largest."

"But where they're living," Elizabeth said, "do you know anything about that?"

Andy shook his head. "I've talked to the Ealdans about it, but they don't have a long history on that planet themselves. The thing about having a system of stargates is that people move around a lot."

"So there's no way to know who lived there after the Ancients but before the Satedans?"

"Well, I didn't say that." Andy scratched the back of his neck. "You know Elsie Schweder, the new cultural anthropologist, well, new to Atlantis; it's her first time in Pegasus, but she worked with Doctor Jackson at the SGC. She has a lot of experience working with off-Earth cultures. That might be a good place to start. We know the people, we trade with them . . ." He trailed off, and Elizabeth knew he was already planning the outing.

"Excellent idea, Andy. Find out what you can about that city, who built it, when, and why. I won't permit you to spend much time there; it's just too dangerous with the radiation."

She finished tea with him and went back to work, wondering how long before she received his request for military accompaniment for the trip to Ealda. She made a note to meet Elsie Schweder, too.

But Elizabeth was a busy administrator, and didn't get to meet Elsie before she and her team left on the mission to Ealda. It was to be a four-day mission, but on the third day, Major Lorne contacted her and, with Chuck as a witness, she learned why he was checking in early.

"Ma'am, it's not the Ealdans. They're as surprised as we were. My guess is it's the Satedans, but they won't identify themselves."

"What are their demands?"

"To leave and never return."

"But we trade with the Ealdans. Teyla's people has for generations. That doesn't make sense."

"No, ma'am. But their spokesman says they won't release Doctors Schweder and Corrigan until we go. And if we return, he says they'll kill us."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Suggestions?"

"Let me get them out. But it'll undoubtedly mean some serious shooting."

She thought, staring into Lorne's earnest face as he peered at her through the MALP's camera. So odd, to know she could see him but he couldn't see her. "I'm coming, Major. You need a trained negotiator on site."

"Yes, ma'am, but I expect Colonel Sheppard to come through the gate with you." Lorne stared at the camera lens as if he could see through it into her eyes; he'd always been good at that.

"Yes, Major. I will of course inform the colonel of my plans. Now, I need to prepare. We should be ready in less than an hour."

"Some of my men will be waiting at the gate. Lorne out."

Chuck looked up at her. "Shall I call Colonel Sheppard?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You'd let me go without him?"

He answered her by speaking into his mic. "Colonel Sheppard to the Doctor Weir's office, please."

They set down the jumper not far from the stargate, tucked near the forest wall. When they assembled beside it, Colonel Sheppard was a few paces ahead of her, Rodney at his left. Ronon and Teyla flanked her, and the Marines surrounded them. Sergeant Cisneros was waiting for them, his face dark with worry. "Colonel," he greeted them. "The major is with the hierarch of the Ealdans, the ones who live near the gate."

"Lead on," John said in his relaxed voice, but Elizabeth knew him well enough not to be fooled. She watched him exchange glances with Rodney, who peered at the life signs detector in his hand, and then with Ronon and Teyla. He didn't meet her eyes.

Cisneros did not lead them into the Ealdan settlement, but deep into the forest. "Are we going to walk to the city?" Rodney asked testily, but John looked at him and he subsided.

"No, sir," Cisneros said. "It's not much farther."

Elizabeth had been on this world, though only in the Ealdan settlementso she knew that the settlement was within walking distance. The mysterious city was miles from the gate. Ronon stayed very near her, putting a steadying hand on her elbow when they clambered over the hillocks of spiky grass and the roots snaking across the forest floor. The forest smelled of pine resin, and it was dark under the thick branches that blocked the cloudy sky.

Then she saw a lopsided, poorly built yurt, the felt walls shabby and suffering from mange. It looked nothing like the homes the Ealdans lived in, nor what she'd seen in the images from the city the Satedans had claimed. John held up his fist and everyone halted; Rodney raised the life signs detector and murmured something to him. John nodded, and then Major Lorne and Sergeant Benckiser appeared to Elizabeth's left, circling the yurt and silently leading their group deeper into the forest.

"Ma'am," Lorne greeted Elizabeth. "Good to see you, sir," he told John, and Elizabeth saw he was sincere. She tensed. "The hierarch is over here."

"The tent?" John asked, and Elizabeth restrained herself from correcting him.

"Been here before the Ealdans arrived. Just being used by the Satedans --"

Ronon growled, "How do you know it's the Satedans?"

"Down, big guy," Rodney said, not looking up from the life signs detector. Ronon lightly smacked the back of Rodney's head, making John's lips quirk in amusement, and Elizabeth realized that Rodney, Doctor-Bad-with-People-McKay, had said that just to calm down Ronon. She hid a smile before remembering that two of her people were being held hostage, and apparently by Ronon's people. No wonder he'd tried to rush the yurt.

"Doctor Weir," a big man called, and she recognized him as Nirsk, the new hierarch of the Ealdans. "I am sorry to see you under these circumstances. I assure you that my people had nothing to do with this."

Behind Nirsk, Lorne rolled his eyes, presumably at Nirsk's pomposity. "Of course," she said, taking both his hands in the Ealdan greeting. "I am sorry, too. Have you any word?"

"These people," he said, turning red in the face, "seem not to remember the Wraith. Why turn on allies? Are the enemies of our enemies no longer our friends?"

Elizabeth heard a scuffle behind her and knew that Ronon was being restrained again, irritated, no doubt, at Nirsk's words. "Ah, of course," she said, looking at Lorne.

"Doctor Weir," he said, stepping forward to take her arm. "Hierarch Nirsk. We need to explain the situation."

"Yes, yes," Nirsk said, puffing out his cheeks.

"Who's in the tent?" John asked, coming to stand next to Elizabeth.

"Nobody," Lorne said. "Some kind of weird video system, so we can communicate with the city."

"Genii?" John asked sharply.

"No, sir. Nothing like that."

"They relay images from the city," Nirsk said. "That's how we learned what they wanted. Two men came into the city to tell us about the equipment, but we haven't seen another Satedan since then."

"Last night," Lorne added. "There's a broadcast scheduled in ten minutes."

"I will not accompany you," Nirsk told Elizabeth, bowing slightly. "As I explained to Major Lorne, this is between your people and the Satedans. The Ealdans support Atlantis, of course, but we cannot afford . . ."

"I understand," Elizabeth finished when it seemed he would not. "Thank you for, for what you've done thus far."

He beamed at her, and then stumped away, presumably back to the settlement.

"Pompous ass," Lorne muttered. "Playing both sides so no matter what happens; he'll be all right."

"I can hardly blame him," Elizabeth said, trying to be the voice of reason, but she did blame him for being a coward. "Ten minutes, you said?"

"Bit less now." They turned and headed back toward the yurt.

"This is disgusting," Rodney announced when they entered the yurt.

Elizabeth thought it was just old. "No wonder Doctor Corrigan wanted to work on this world," she said. Rodney snorted, and peered over Lorne's shoulder at the flat, shiny rectangular platen bordered by knobs marked with graduations and pointers.

"Looks like something Max Headroom would use," John said.

"More like something out of _Brazil_ ," Rodney muttered, peering closely at it.

"Great movie," John said, and looked at Lorne.

"It'll come on in a minute," Lorne said. "Sometimes it sparks a bit." Rodney slid behind John. "You don't have to turn it on or anything."

"Is there a camera here? Can we communicate with them?" John asked.

"No camera, but this is the speaker." Lorne gestured toward a tiny slit at the top of the rectangle. "Not that they've been interested in what we have to say."

"They will be," John said firmly. "Ronon, step back. You know the plan."

Elizabeth watched Teyla and Ronon move behind the monitor, leaving her standing next to John, with Lorne and Rodney immediately behind them. "Ready?" John asked her. She nodded.

Almost instantly, the machine sputtered and sparked, making Elizabeth flinch. Lorne glanced at her, then back at the rolling image.

"Major," it said. The picture resolved into a hooded person, face impossible to identify. "Have you agreed to our terms?"

"I explained before that I don't have that authority," Lorne said firmly. "This is our leader, Doctor Elizabeth Weir."

"Good day," Elizabeth said. "To whom am I speaking?"

"That's doesn't matter. What matters is that we have two of your people," the hooded person announced. The camera panned and Elizabeth saw Doctors Corrigan and Schweder seated back to back, obviously bound, mouths covered. Elsie Schweder's eyes were swollen; Elizabeth hoped only from crying. Corrigan had a smudge on his jaw that she knew was a bruise, and his shirt had been torn across one shoulder.

"Let them go," Elizabeth said slowly and clearly. "Let them go right now and you won't regret this."

"Really?" The camera returned to the spokesman. "We'll let them go when you and all your people leave."

"Fair enough," Elizabeth said. "Where shall we meet?"

There was a lengthy pause, as if the kidnapper couldn't believe Elizabeth's words, or maybe others were conferring off camera. After nearly a moment, the hooded man said, "We'll let you know. One hour." The monitor sputtered again, and the image faded to black.

"Okay, boys and girls," John announced. We go get them."

"I know where they are," Rodney said, straightening his back. "If he'd talked a little longer I could tell you which room, but I've got the building."

John said, "Elizabeth, Lorne, you stay here. When they call back, negotiate. Say anything. Guarantee we'll go, the Ealdans'll go, whatever they want to hear."

"How'd you triangulate that, Doc?" Lorne asked.

"Ronon had a good idea where it was from the images you sent back," Rodney said, "so that gave us a head start. Their subcutaneous transmitters are muffled by the city's infrastructure and the radiation, but not entirely blocked. Between Ronon's information and the work I did on the reception of this thing --" he gestured with the life signs detector he'd been studying their entire time on Ealda, "I was able to get pretty close."

"We'll go." John looked at Lorne. "Take care of Elizabeth."

"Yessir." They left the yurt, slipping into the darkening forest, the Marines incongruously silent as they followed.

Elizabeth turned to Lorne. "What will happen now?"

He made a face. "Now it gets boring. We wait till they call back and then stall them. Tell them that the colonel has begun evacuating our people."

She nodded. In fact, they had few people on Ealda, and no permanent settlement, but she could do earnest and concerned very easily after all these years of practice. "How did Ronon know where they'd be?"

"McKay had made a map of the city, and the colonel's team identified some of the buildings. Most were things like cafes and markets, just regular stuff, but Ronon was sure he knew which buildings would be government. I guess the chieftains always settled in the city center."

"What if they're wrong?"

"Doctor Weir! Has Doctor McKay _ever_ been wrong?" He grinned at her, and she let it go. John's team had gone into danger with even less intel; they were good. They'd be fine.

She sighed and hoped she was right.

~ ~ ~

Leaning forward, the better to see beyond the windshield, Ronon felt Teyla's hand on his shoulder, but she remained silent.

"Just how sure are you?" John asked Rodney as they approached the city.

"Are you doubting me? I can't believe -- after all we've -- well, pretty sure. Ronon actually, he, uh, Ronon?"

"I'm sure," Ronon said flatly. "I don't think these people have changed."

"These people?" John looked at him for a moment. "Aren't they your people?"

"These are the chieftains, the people who told us to stay and fight while they left." He felt sad, and angry, and tired. "I know them, what they're like."

"Yes, well, that's all very good, but what are they _doing_ ," Rodney interrupted them. "Doesn't make a damn bit of sense to me."

Ronon shook his head. He didn't know why they were doing this, either. Surely by now all they'd want is peace and quiet. But they'd tried to manipulate the entire planet, to trick Satedans into fighting while they'd been fleeing. He'd never felt the need to share with his team the shame of his planet, though Teyla knew some of it, but maybe it was time. He scratched his eyebrow, and touched the tattoo on his neck. "Let's get there."

In minutes, they'd arrived. John cloaked the puddlejumper, and they scrambled into their uncomfortable hazmat suits and climbed awkwardly into the rubbled city streets. "Shit," Rodney muttered, stumbling over the cracked pavement. John held his arm till he was stable, then patted him on the back. "This way," Rodney said, pointing, and Ronon led them through the ruined alleys, around half-fallen buildings, over tumbled-down fences.

"Definitely not Ancient design," John said when they paused to catch their breath. The sun was directly overhead and its brilliant light washed out the colors, turning the edges of Ronon's vision blue. "Some of the style, but none of the quality."

Ronon took point, leaving them to follow as best they could. Now he could see the cluster of buildings where he believed their people were being held. The four Marines remained near him, arms at the ready. Ronon approved of the Marines; he'd even learned a little of their history. He liked that the idea of the Marines been conceived in a tavern, and appreciated how frequently they trained with weapons.

"The problem with these suits," Rodney said suddenly, panting, "is they really don't do much good against ionizing radiation. They're more for particle radiation. Everybody check your dosimeter."

"So why are we wearing them?" Teyla asked; Ronon thought she sounded tired.

"Better than nothing," John said. "And we won't be here long, will we, Ronon?"

He shook his head. "There," he said, pointing, and they all froze. One Marine, Tavares, stood next to Ronon, silent and steady. He'd been teaching Ronon _capoeira_ and, despite Tavares' small stature, Ronon had to work hard to compete with him. He nodded at Tavares and then at the back of the structure.

Over Ronon's radio, he heard John murmur, "Stay together, stay quiet. Rodney, stay behind Teyla. "Levi, stick with them. Xiong, take point. Tavares and McClane, the left flank. Ronon?"

"You're with me," he said to John, and they began to work their way forward, dropping to a crawl to hide behind the churned up street. From that vantage point, Ronon saw nests of rats, heard their rustling. Vines had grown thickly across this area, strung from building to building, twining around light poles. Age and disuse, he thought, looked a lot like a bomb had gone off.

There was a low thrumming that reached him even inside his suit. "Generators," he heard Rodney whisper over the radio. "God knows what they use for fuel."

The double-doors of the civic center hung open, hinges rusted away and no attempt to repair them. Ronon felt contempt for the people who would willingly live here. While he'd been a Runner, yes, he'd spent many nights in dilapidated, deserted buildings, but had he the choice, he would have repaired his home. He wondered what it meant that they'd chosen to live here amid such desolated ruin.

Ronon and John led them cautiously into the building, moving as silently as they could. "Okay," Rodney panted. "I'm getting a clearer signal now. They're," he raised his head, "that way." Xiong took the lead again, this time with Rodney right behind him and Teyla at Rodney's side. The corridor narrowed until they could walk only two abreast, and Ronon saw it had once been carpeted, lined with good sized offices, their doors now missing or fallen. Even in here, vines climbed the walls, and the ceiling had collapsed, revealing the infrastructure of rusted pipes and tangled wires.

Over the noise of his SCBA unit, Ronon began to hear more than the vibration of the generators. He thought he heard voices. He held his breath for a few seconds, listening hard, but the noises his suit made obscured too much. He leaned against the crumbling wall, feeling the shudder of some nearby mechanism through his gloves, and then was certain he heard a shout.

He ripped off his helmet and tossed it to Teyla, who caught it without a word. Rodney's eyes were wide and stargate blue behind the reflection of his helmet's mask, and Ronon heard John's husky voice break in anger, but he was already moving ahead of Xiong. Tavares and Xiong flanked him and they hurried toward the sounds, the others following.

He knew this place. He'd never been here before, but he knew this. The chieftains had tried to replicate what they'd had on Sateda, risking the lives of the citizens who still followed them, but their own lives, too, and that was a change Ronon approved of. He understood what they were doing in a way he would never be able to explain to John or Elizabeth, nor even to Teyla. He smelt their fear, sunk into this building like the rot of water-damaged ceiling tiles and the moldy plaster walls.

They reached a T in the corridor and he paused. Meeting each of the other's eyes, he mouthed _Guards ahead_ , and saw they all understood. Because he could hear best, he pressed against the lumpy wall and listened harder. John passed him a tiny mirror, and he slid it past the corner. Two men, bored, one leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, the other with his arms crossed, hands far from his weapon.

Ronon looked at Tavares and nodded, and they simultaneously burst around the corner. Ronon stunned them both and Tavares helped him drag them back down the corridor and around the corner, then tossed McClane one of the guards' stunners. Ronon studied the one he'd recovered; it wasn't like his. It was heavier, and not as elegantly machined. He handed it to Tavares.

John put his hand on Ronon's arm. "Plan?"

"Same as before. Go in and get 'em," he murmured directly into John's helmet.

"We're gonna talk about this," John said. Ronon shrugged. They could talk all night if John wanted, but only after this was done.

He peered around the corner; no one had noticed anything. This time, all of them jogged up the corridor, almost in unison; for a moment, Ronon imagined he was back with his old team, the men who'd died in front of his eyes.

They slowed when they came to the passageway that had been guarded. Again, Ronon slid the mirror past the corner. This would be harder. He pulled John up and showed him the tiny reflection of a dozen men and women, dressed as they would have back on Sateda a decade ago.

Rodney whispered, "What? Let's go. The suspense is killing me." John gave him a look, but Ronon agreed. He gestured, and they set out again, this time running, weapons at the ready.

They erupted into the room. One woman stood up; her mouth opened in a scream, and Ronon saw she was losing her teeth. He grabbed the man nearest him and watched as the others, even McKay, seized people.

"They're nearby!" McKay shouted so loudly that Ronon could hear him through Rodney's helmet.

"Where are our people?" Ronon growled at the man he held, his arm locked around his throat.

"Just go! Take them and go!" he gasped

"We'll all go," John said, and they pushed their hostages forward, following McKay, whose eyes were so wide and wild that his captive looked more frightened than Ronon's.

"Who's in charge?" Ronon asked.

"No one, it's falling apart," his captive said.

"What happened to Len? And Holoth?"

"Dead," the first woman said. "This was Teros' idea, and it is falling apart." She began to cry. Teyla held her tightly, almost in comfort, Ronon thought, and then the lights went out.

"Fuck," John muttered.

"Doesn't matter; keep going!" Rodney shouted. "This way, this way, oh, god."

"NVDs would be really nice," Tavares muttered, but they hadn't planned on needing night vision goggles in the middle of a summer day, so they stumbled on, following the ghostly blue light of McKay's life signs detector. Down a short flight of stairs, around an enormous opening in the floor, plunging to who knew how many levels below, the crumbling tile surrounding it wet and slippery. The room they were in was huge, too, Ronon knew by the echoes. The woman cried harder, and one of the men began to pray, an ancient prayer Ronon hadn't heard since he'd been taken by the Wraith.

"Shut up," he told the man. The man prayed louder.

"Stay back!" someone shouted, and the man Tavaress was holding responded, "We're here! Don't shoot! Let them go!" The others joined in, so many people shouting that Ronon's head ached. The air smelled bad in here, wet and sour.

"They're here," Rodney whispered.

"Lights," John said, and a half dozen flashlights clicked on, illuminating what must have been a control room, with consoles and desks and broken dials and knobs. In the center, in the same bound position that Ronon had seen on the monitor, were Corrigan and Schweder. They looked no worse, but they didn't look good.

"Let them go and nobody'll get hurt," John said, and he sounded reasonable and sincere.

"Teros, do it," the woman cried. "This is wrong. Everything is wrong."

"We have to," a tall thin man said. He'd lost all his hair, even his eyebrows, and Ronon knew it was from the radiation here.

"No, you don't," Ronon said. He shone the light on his face so they could see his dreads and his tattoo. "It's a big galaxy. This is useless, it's stupid."

"He's right," the man Ronon held said. "Teros, it's _over_. Sateda is gone."

"No, no!" Teros shouted, hurrying toward Ronon. Corrigan flung himself at Teros, his bodyweight tipping over his and Schweder's chairs, knocking Teros off his feet, and Ronon leapt over them to seize Teros by his collar.

He pressed his weapon against Teros' throat. "Let. Them. Go."

"Ronon," Teyla warned.

Teros closed his eyes. "Too late," he whispered.

"No, it's not," someone else said. He walked slowly toward Ronon, hands in the air. "I am Teros' brother, Rabbe. I was one of the chieftains on Sateda during the final days. We governed as best we could."

"No," Ronon said firmly. "You fucking lied and cheated your way off the world and left everyone else to die."

"Yes," Rabbe said. "We did. We did it with good intentions, to save the government so Sateda could live again. But we chose wrong every step of the way." He slowly knelt next to Teros, keeping his hands up and away. "Let me comfort my brother," he said. "Only I can do this thing."

Ronon stared at him, and then slowly released Teros into his arms. "Brother," Rabbe whispered, putting his face into Teros' neck. "Elder brother, I honor and love thee." Ronon grabbed at Rabbe, but it was too late. With those ancient words, he swung a _keris_ into Teros' chest. Blood spurted out with each fading heartbeat. Ronon heard the others cry out in distress, saw John seize the blade from Rabbe, smelled the warm iron of Teros' blood on his face.

"Shit," he heard John mutter.

"Okay, okay, that's tragic, I'm sorry, very Euripedes, but we have to _go_. These suits, as I've reminded you repeatedly, aren't adequate to block ionizing radiation, and I don't trust the dosimeters." Rodney tried to snap his fingers but his thick gloves frustrated him. "Come _on_ ," he said.

Ronon stood, leaving Teros in Rabbe's arms. "You should go, too," he said, and looking around the room, told them all, "You should leave here. It's killing you. It's what you deserve, but not the people you brought with you. Just go."

Teyla, McClane, and Levi had untied Corrigan and Schweder and helped them to their feet. "Can you walk?" Teyla asked them, holding Schweder's hand.

Schweder nodded. "Just get us out of here. These people don't know anything about the history of this city anyway."

"That's the anthropologist I know and admire," Corrigan said, his words muffled by his battered mouth. Ronon and Xiong helped him stand, and Xiong slung his arm around Corrigan's waist when his knees buckled.

"Yeah," John said slowly, looking around the room. "We're going. You should, too. If you'd get the lights, though, we'd appreciate it." They started shuffling their way toward the dark corridor. "Be careful in the next room," John reminded them.

The lights flickered and a few came on, shooting long beams that obscured as much as revealed the ugly damage. "What the hell is this place?" Tavares asked, but no one answered. Ronon didn't care; he just wanted off this planet.

Ahead of him, Rodney continued to lead the way, John immediately behind him, circling the enormous hole in the floor. Ronon couldn't help himself; he peered into it. "Watch it," John said, and slid on the broken flooring to his knees, one foot over the ledge.

"Fuck!" Rodney shouted, and tossed away the life signs detector he'd been clutching ever since they'd stepped off the jumper, simultaneously throwing himself toward John and seizing his arm. "Fucking hell, you moron, you're supposed to watch where _you're_ going, and if that piece of crap life signs detector is broken, I'll break your leg for you."

"Shut up, McKay," John gasped, and clambered up, letting Rodney haul him to his feet. For a moment, they stared down into the hole.

"John?" Teyla called to him. He raised a hand, signaling all was well.

Rodney continued to grumble while John shrugged the arm Rodney had caught. Ronon and Xiong carefully moved Corrigan further away from the edge, cautious of the wet and crumbling flooring.

"How you doin', Doc?" he asked Corrigan.

"May I be frank, Mister Dex? I feel like cold shit on old toast."

"Be home soon."

"Home," Schweder sniffed, and wiped her eyes. "I really wanted to understand, to make a contribution. All I'm coming back with is a black eye."

Ronon smiled to himself. She sounded pretty tough; he thought she'd be back in the field soon.

At the jumper, John collapsed into the pilot's seat and called Elizabeth. "Got 'em," he said wearily, and Ronon saw that he was in some pain. Rodney continued to hover near John, earning a smack to his shoulder until he settled into the co-pilot's chair.

"Come back," Elizabeth's voice said. "We're waiting for you."

John was all right, just bruised. Corrigan and Schweder were, too; they hadn't, according to Rodney, been in the city long enough to absorb much radiation.

~ ~ ~

"Ronon, you have not meditated with me in some time," Teyla said, studying him. "Are you well?"

"Sure. Just boring, you know?"

She smiled at him encouragingly. "I do not agree, and I believe it would do you good. Will you not sit with me tonight?"

He grinned at her. "Will you do the splits again?"

She playfully smacked his arm. "If that would help your meditation, I will consider it."

"It'd help something." He leaned on the balcony railing, looking out over the water.

"What is it?" she asked quietly. She came to the railing as well, the wind lifting her hair and cooling her body. She had been training with Laura Cadman and was still a bit sweaty from her workout. "I have missed you."

He looked down at her, and she saw the affection in his eyes. "Sorry."

"You have been like this since Ealda."

"Those people -- the chieftains. I can't." He stopped abruptly and looked out to sea. "I'm ashamed," he said at last. "Ashamed to be Satedan."

"No, Ronon. Never. They were just a group of very frightened people. We cannot blame them for their fears. All of us have lost so much."

He shrugged and tapped the railing absently. "We had our world taken from us," he said. "They gave up their, their dignity. Their right to respect."

"They did," she agreed. Her heart went out to him. He was so young, and had been alone so long. She remembered when he first discovered that there were still other Satedans in the galaxy and how happy he'd been. "We will return to Ealda," she told him. "We will help your people integrate into other worlds. That is how we survive; you know that."

"Your people have," Ronon said. "They just -- go. Mix. Blend. Now with the Atlantians."

"I have heard a song Elizabeth loves; it says _the willow tree bendeth_ ," she told him softly, and took his hand. "In this, the Athosians are like the willow tree. We have learned to bend to survive."

"Satedans always stood strong."

"Like the oak, which breaks. Do not break, Ronon."

He looked at her, and she let him look while she waited patiently. "Teyla," he finally began, but she put her fingers over his mouth. He smiled and kissed them, taking her hand again. "Pretty smart for a girl," he finally said, so she smacked his arm again, harder, and he laughed and swung her around, setting her on the balcony but holding her safely. She rested her head on his shoulder. "Will John be all right?" he asked after a while.

"If Rodney has anything to do with it, yes," she said. "Let us see."

He helped her down from the railing and they wandered through the mythical halls of Atlantis so recently risen from the sea, until they found their teammates in the mess, staring at a chessboard between them.

"You suck," Rodney said with heat. "You so, so suck."

"Suck it up, McKay," John told him. "You're just a bad loser."

"You're a _terrible_ winner," Rodney shot back, and then slumped. "Goddammit."

John laughed his horrible raucous laugh, and Teyla looked up at Ronon. "He will be all right," she confirmed, and Ronon squeezed her hand before lifting John, chair and all, up, scattering the chessmen and making both John and Rodney shout.

When they'd settled down, Rodney insisting that Ronon pick up all the chess pieces and return them, John said, "So, buddy. Wanna tell us what that was all about?"

"Figured out something," Ronon said, rolling a piece between his fingers, one that John called a _rook_.

She took the _rook_ from Ronon's hands and placed it carefully on the board. "It is black, so A8, yes?" she asked. Rodney gaped at her, and John laughed again, and Ronon smiled. "What did you figure out, Ronon?"

He pulled out a chair for her, and sat between her and John. "I'm a willow," he said, making Rodney snort. "And this is my family."

John said, "Well, that's well and good, and kinda sweet in a disturbing way, but what brought it on?"

"Teyla knows."

John and Rodney looked at Teyla. "I do," she said.

~ ~ ~

"So what the hell do you think the Satedans were doing?" John asked Rodney.

"How many times have I asked you not to eat citrus near me? Do you know what would happen if you squirted juice in my eye? What is wrong with you?"

"It's not citrus. It's that fruit from PX3-298. More like a peach, so nothing would happen if I squirted juice in your eye."

"Hmph. Let's not try, shall we?"

"We shall not."

"To answer your question, I haven't a clue. I think the radiation must've fried their brains." Rodney rubbed his eye; John wondered if it was psychosomatic. "Actually, I think they just wanted us off the planet."

"Too much taken from them too soon," John murmured. He'd seen that in Afghanistan and Iraq, in all the poor countries he'd served in. "I think they figured that, since they wanted the city, we would too. They didn't want another army of occupation."

"We're hardly that," Rodney pointed out.

John shrugged. "How else could they see us? We co-opted Ronon. We live in Atlantis." We woke the Wraith, he thought, but didn't say it to Rodney.

"Stop thinking," Rodney said. "It irritates me."

John wrapped the pit of the fruit in a napkin and tossed it into a trashbin, then rose. "Get some air?"

"Now that you're unsuccessful with your assassination attempt? Sure."

They wandered the hallways a bit, heading toward the balcony facing west. Both of them liked it there, the breeze rushing over thousands of miles of ocean, smelling brand new. Today, the sea was still as a pond, the sun a sluggish puddle of light in it. "Slack tide," John said.

"Beautiful," Rodney said.

"Glad to be here?"

"Hell, yeah. So much better than any other place we've found out here."

John agreed with that. He put his hands in his pockets and let his shoulder brush Rodney's. No one in the Pegasus Galaxy truly had security, and maybe that's what drove the Satedans on Ealda to behave so irrationally. Or maybe Rodney was right and the radiation had fried their brains. But here, this afternoon, the sun slanting on the still water, Rodney grousing at his side, John remembered Ronon's intensity as he insisted they help the Satedans. _My people_ , he had called them, but in the end, he'd returned to Atlantis, and he'd called them family.

He sighed, and was about to head back to his office and paperwork when Rodney nudged him and pointed. "Sam," he said, sounding deeply satisfied.

John watched as the whale spouted, its flukes catching the light of the late sun where it parsed the water. He and Rodney stood a long time, watching the whale, watching the sun's descent, sharing a moment of peace before Rodney would start snapping his fingers and John would have to start his reports.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "What Did I Learn in the Wars?" by Yehuda Amichai:  
> What did I learn in the wars:  
> To march in time to swinging arms and legs  
> Like pumps pumping an empty well.
> 
> To march in a row and be alone in the middle,  
> To dig into pillows, featherbeds, the body of a beloved woman,  
> And to yell "Mama," when she cannot hear,  
> And to yell "God," when I don't believe in Him,  
> And even if I did believe in Him  
> I wouldn't have told him about the war  
> As you don't tell a child about grown-ups' horrors.
> 
> What else did I learn. I learned to reserve a path for retreat.  
> In foreign lands I rent a room in a hotel  
> Near the airport or railroad station.  
> And even in wedding halls  
> Always to watch the little door  
> With the "Exit" sign in red letters.
> 
> A battle too begins  
> Like rhythmical drums for dancing and ends  
> With a "retreat at dawn." Forbidden love  
> And battle, the two of them sometimes end like this.  
> 
> 
> But above all I learned the wisdom of camouflage,  
> Not to stand out, not to be recognized,  
> Not to be apart from what's around me,  
> Even not from my beloved.
> 
> Let them think I am a bush or a lamb  
> A tree, a shadow of a tree,  
> A doubt, a shadow of a doubt,  
> A living hedge, a dead stone,  
> A house, a corner of a house.
> 
> If I were a prophet I would have dimmed the glow of the vision  
> And darkened my faith with black paper  
> And covered the magic with nets.
> 
> And when my time comes, I shall don the camouflage garb of my end:  
> The white of clouds and a lot of sky blue  
> And stars that have no end.


End file.
